Darksong Rising (32 page)

“He said... you weren’t always nice.”

Anna looked straight into the redhead’s amber eyes. “Sometimes, I’ve had to do things that

weren’t what I wanted. You will, too. We all do the best we can. When you can do something

better—or nicer—and you don’t, that’s when you get in trouble.” Like you have...

Secca smiled shyly, then bowed again. “I should go, Lady Anna."

Anna watched as the redhead scurried down the corridor. Then she turned and headed toward the

staircase. The receiving room was empty when she reached it, except for another pair of guards,

Kerhor and Blaz—and the dark-haired Skent, who waited as the duty page.

“Skent? Would you see if Lord Jecks and Arms Commander Hanfor could meet with me

shortly?”

“Yes, Lady Anna.”

Once inside her de facto office, Anna sorted through the scrolls that represented what she needed

to do, beginning with the last draft of her proposed “newsletter” scroll. After reading it and

nodding, she set it aside for the copying she had to set up by the fosterlings. Before you go off

anywhere.

Her thoughts drifted to young Farsenn and his drums, and she shook her head before she finally

picked the scroll that held the summary of accounts. She scanned Dythya’s latest summary—not

so bad as previously, not with the three thousand golds from the Liedfuhr and the four thousand

from Dumar. Almost enough to do what you‘d planned... Except that there were more needs—

like forage for the grasslands people, or what seemed like the tenth petition for lower taxes on

the merchants of Falcor, and the fifth for lower tariffs on the rivermen.

Then... she needed to do something about Secca’s mother, the lady Anientta, who had probably

poisoned her consort... and about the succession in Fussen ... or did she? You’re becoming like

all those bureaucrats on Earth... stalling because any decision is worse than none.

She took a deep breath and reached for the water pitcher. After filling her goblet and taking a

deep swallow, she sharpened the quill and began to add to the list of tasks that she needed to

address.

Anna was still adding to that list when Jecks and Hanfor arrived. She set aside the quill and

waited until the two men were seated across the conference table from her. “I’m thinking of

taking tenscore armsmen and going to Mencha... and if nothing happens while I’m there, going

on into Ebra.”

Hanfor nodded slowly. “You remain worried about the Sturinnese?”

“I’m worried about someone like Bertmynn. who’ll accept Sturinnese coins.” And having to pick

up the pieces later, at a higher cost.

“What have you seen in your pool?” Jecks asked.

“Bertmynn is about to head downriver toward Elahwa, if he hasn’t already. It looks like he wants

to take over the city and port there.”

“Would it not be wiser to wait. . . to see the results in Ebra?" questioned Hanfor. “Or do you

wish to call a hundredscore levies now?”

Anna shook her head. “I don’t think so. Calling the levies before Rabyn does anything will only

reduce their useful time of service. We can’t wait on Ebra, either. Dolov wasn’t affected by my

sorcery against the Evult. Synek was more than half-destroyed, and Elahwa was partly destroyed.

The freewomen are trying to do something in Elahwa, and Bertmynn’s against that. I’d like to

stop him, or if I’m too late, attack him before he gets more arms and armsmen from Sturinn.”

“You cannot defend all of Liedwahr,” Hanfor said slowly.

It does sound like that’s what you’re trying to do, doesn’t it? Anna paused, then reached for the

goblet. It was empty.

Jecks refilled it from the pitcher, then looked at Hanfor. The grizzled veteran nodded, and Jecks

filled all three goblets.

“Let us say you are successful,” Hanfor finally continued after a swallow from the goblet before

him. “You destroy Lord Bertmynn. You are two weeks or more at a hard ride from Falcor. If the

Nesereans attack? What would you have me do without levies?”

“I think we should call up some levies, preferably enough to make up a force for you to train...

perhaps somewhere near Dubaria or Denguic. Not too many, though.”

“And?”

“If we do so, then.. ‘ Anna paused, thinking, before concluding, “then Rabyn will have to move

more armsmen to Elioch or the West Pass, and that will take time.”

“You still may not return that quickly,” Jecks pointed out. “What would you have your arms

commander do if the Nesereans do cross into Defalk?”

“Defend Defalk." Hanfor offered a half smile. “Preferably with some effect.”

“If you can manage it, Hanfor, have Rabyn attack Fussen,” Anna said dryly. “And put Lord Ustal

in charge of an attack on their center... or wherever, If that doesn’t work, try to slow them down

without losing too many levies. Give up territory rather than men. We can get the territory back,

but not the armsmen.”

Jecks laughed. ‘That will not make your western lords pleased.”

Nothing will please them except the world not changing. “It may not come to that." Except it

will, because most men in Liedwahr instinctively believe that over time no woman can keep

defeating men.

“I think I will draw up plans for a retreat through Fussen." Hanfor’s lips quirked. “I doubt not

that you will succeed in Ebra, but success takes time.”

“I leave the details to you,” Anna acknowledged, turning her eyes to Jecks. "Lord Jecks, in the

next day or so, you and Han-for should discuss which levies to call up... and how many. Then I’ll

draft the scrolls."

Both men nodded.

“Oh... and I think I'd like some of the lancers who can handle bows to come with me.”

“That would be best, lady;" Hanfor said with a grin. “Most can only get the shafts into the air and

pointed in the direction of the enemy without you and your spells."

Anna was afraid that still might have been the case. “Do you wish me to accompany you in

Mencha... and beyond?” asked Jecks.

“I had thought of it,” Anna replied. “I also thought that we might bring Lord Jimbob along.”

Hanfor nodded. “Words mean little to him."

“His father had trouble with them as well," Jecks answered dryly. “The peach falls not far from

the tree, alas."

Anna frowned. “What about bringing one of the older students, too?”

“You would not wish Hoede, and Skent went to Fussen. There are no other fosterlings, only

pages.”

Anna ignored Jecks’ unconscious chauvinism. “What about Kinor? Liende’s son? I think they all

need to see what Defalk faces.”

“Best you ask your chief player,” Jecks suggested.

“I will. If she’s reluctant, we can bring Resor.” Anna took a sip of water. "Oh... what do you

think about making Skent an undercaptain? And bringing him?”

Jocks frowned.

Hanfor nodded slowly. “I would have him work with Jirsit, beginning this day. He has the sense,

and you have need that he become experienced in arms and battle.”

Abruptly, Jecks smiled. “I will work with him, as well. But he should not sit with you at table

until after he proves himself."

“You mean, wherever we go?” Jocks nodded.

"If you two would tell Skent, and let him know that this is an opportunity for him?”

“Best I do this," said Hanfor.

“We’ll also need some wagons and some armsmen to leave at Mencha.. . another score or so. I’ll

explain later." Anna smiled. “We may have some... goods to bring back to Falcor."

“Derived through sorcery?” asked Hanfor.

“Or battle,” suggested Anna. She looked down at the list before her—the long list. “Now... you

know Lord Vyarl, Lord Jecks... how many coins should we send him to buy forage...

She didn’t want to think about all the other problems they needed to address before she dared

leave for Mencha, like sending a message to summon Halde to Falcor once she returned. That’s

assuming you return. Or reworking the accounts with Dythya... or preparing the levy notices for

Hanfor or making sure that her de facto postal system was launched... or... the list seemed

endless.

30

The mid-afternoon, pre-harvest sun warmed the back of
 
Anna’s vest as the column neared the

western bank of the Chean River. Several of the old oaks flanking the road were bare-leaved—

dead—or graced with yellow leaves well before fall’s turn. The air was so still that the afternoon

seemed as hot as midsummer.

“River’s running higher than in years,” Jecks observed to Anna. before turning in the saddle to

glance at Jimbob and Kinor—two redheads riding abreast before the second set of Anna’s guards

and before the players.

Behind the players rode the majority of lancers, ninescore or so. Somewhere back in the dust

rode a new and determined undercaptain, Skent. The other score of lancers served as the

vanguard and had already crossed the ancient stone bridge that lay slightly more than a hundred

yards ahead of Anna.

‘That’s good." Anna patted Farinelli, then glanced at the bridge ahead, leading over the Chean

and then into Pamr. “Maybe it will help some of the trees."

“For those, it’s too late. It will be years before the forests begin to grow back.”

Farinelli’s hoofs clicked on the stones of the bridge. Anna glanced down at the brownish blue

water, swirling past and through the brush that had grown up during the dry years of the Evult’s

drought.

 
"...always talking about the drought..." Jimbob’s voice was barely audible.